I have a number of pictures I'd like to post, but no real narrative in which to embed them. I am working at being less limited by my own dagblasted protocol. It's not like anyone told me I had to write anything here. I just haven't been writing much as a rule. And it's not for lack of anything to say. It's falling behind and being distracted and opting instead to write to people who matter on a more personal level and with more swear words.

I once made fun of myself to my friend Tom, who suggested that I might be giving him the silent treatment. I said, "And, honestly, Tom. Me? Give anyone the silent treatment? Don't you picture me at home talking into a paper bag just to keep the stories coming? Of course you do." Indeed. Paper bags, closed at the top, and shelved away for later.

It's true. I never run out of stories or things to say or comments to make on stories I've already told and things I've already said. But I do run out of time. And that keeps me from saying everything I mean to. Even on the most relaxed of days. Of which today is not one.